


Only Getting Better

by daisysusan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 08:22:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisysusan/pseuds/daisysusan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Liam and Louis mix it up a bit — you know, in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Getting Better

**Author's Note:**

> For the cottoncandy_bingo prompt _priceless_.

Liam’s not very good at talking about sex, never has been. It’s honestly not much of a thing, and Louis isn’t especially bothered by it, because—well, for two reasons. First, Liam’s enthusiastic and adventurous about the act itself, and Louis has the bruises to prove it; and second, and this is more of a personal thing, Liam’s reactions when Louis does start talking about sex instead of just _acting_ are kind of the best thing ever.

Like right now, for instance. Liam’s sprawled across the bed, his shirt half undone and his lips already pinker and more full than usual from kissing. He’s already slightly flushed, his cheeks tinged lightly pink, but Louis knows that as soon as he says what’s on his mind, Liam will turn properly red and probably bite his lip to boot. It’s kind of a crime that Liam’s allowed to look the way he does. Ever, really, but especially right now.

“I was thinking,” Louis says, sitting back on his heels so Liam can’t drag him into another kiss. 

“Mmm?” Liam says. 

“I was thinking we could switch it up a bit this time.”

Liam frowns, an unusual expression him, but then he seems to sort it out and—predictably—goes bright pink and, yep, bites his lip. “Oh,” he says, low. “Er—”

He wants to ask why, it’s clear as day, and Louis needs to tell him because otherwise Liam’s going to convince himself he’s not good enough which—that couldn’t possibly be wrong. Louis is more than happy to let Liam press him into their bed or their sofa—or once, memorably, bend him over the kitchen table—but it’s nice to change things around from time to time. 

“I thought you might like to try it, babe,” Louis says, which is definitely true, though he’s potentially more interested in seeing how Liam reacts to being fucked than anything more selfless. “New experience and all.”

Louis is trying not to think too much about how he knows no one’s ever fucked Liam and he’s fairly certain that he’s not even been properly fingered before, just a few light touches during other things.

Well. He had let Louis lick him out once, but that’s hardly the same. 

Liam is pinker than Louis has ever seen him before, gnawing at his lip like it might be able to tell him what he’ll like in bed. “Obviously we don’t have to if you don’t want to, love,” Louis adds. It’s so easy to forget, sometimes, that Liam would probably actually throw himself off a building if he thought it would make Louis happy. 

But then Liam’s face breaks into a shy smile, his lip still caught between his teeth—it’s going to be so red and so swollen when he finally lets go of it that Louis goes a bit lightheaded thinking of it—and says, “Okay then. We can do that.”

Right, now Louis feels more than just a bit lightheaded, and he’s profoundly glad he decided against having this conversation standing up. Or anywhere they might have to actually stand up and walk to the bed, because if he doesn’t get to work on fucking Liam right now, he might faint or something else horribly embarrassing. 

He stares down at Liam, distantly aware that he’s probably mortifying him but too spoiled for choice to do much of anything else. He could finish taking Liam’s shirt off, exploring his skin as he peels the fabric back, or he could skip that altogether and take Liam’s trousers off—they don’t look particularly comfortable at the moment—or he could suck Liam’s swollen lower lip into his mouth and kiss Liam until neither of them can breathe properly. 

That sounds kind of perfect, actually, and Louis leans down, nipping at Liam’s lip before he seals their mouths together. Probably best to go slow—for all his own blind arousal, Liam’s never done this before and he still looks a bit nervous about having agreed to it at all. But Liam’s kissing him back hard, wrapping one hand around the back of Louis’s neck and pulling him down closer. He’s licking into Louis’s mouth and—yeah. Liam. Enthusiasm. That’s how this goes. 

Louis pulls away—reluctant but interested in getting to touch more of Liam’s skin, he’s always interested in touching Liam’s skin—straddling his hips and unbuttoning his shirt slowly. Liam’s hips jerk up when Louis tweaks one of his nipples, and for a moment Louis forgets why he wanted to switch up at all. It’s all familiar, they’ve done this more times than Louis can count, undressing each other slowly and refinding all the places that make them gasp and writhe; he knows exactly how hard to press against Liam’s hips to keep him still, exactly how much pressure makes Liam squirm underneath him and moan a little desperately. 

He lets his lips rock down against Liam’s, his fingers tracing the well-defined lines of muscles across Liam’s stomach and chest. Liam’s eyes are wide, fixed on Louis’s face, and Louis can feel how hard he is inside his trousers. That’s—promising seems like an understatement. Really fucking hot, maybe. 

“Are you going to—” Liam says, a bit choked but not in a bad way. In a way like he’s maybe just as turned-on by thinking about this as Louis is. _Christ_ it’s been a long time since he fucked anyone—it’s been Liam for so long now, slowly building up to this but what felt like a lifetime of horrible pining before that. And then before that there was Harry, sort of, but that never progressed beyond a couple of too-drunk-to-be-very-good handjobs before they figured they were better off as friends anyway. 

He’s going to last about thirty seconds once he actually gets into Liam, is where this is going. And he has to work kind of embarrassingly hard to keep from moaning at just the though of it. 

Liam is blushing again, Louis can see it spread across his chest, but he’s also licking his lips and working at the button of Louis’s jeans. It hits Louis kind of overwhelmingly—he feels a bit like he’s been punched—that this is Liam, this isn’t just a random person he’d met a pub and taken home for the night, this is _Liam_ and he’s going to be fucking Liam. Liam who he’s been dating for something long enough to be significant now, more months than he has fingers on one hand, probably. Liam, who Louis was hung up on for so long and so obviously that Harry had started naming the facial expressions he used to look at Liam. Liam who was probably straight and then definitely not straight and then curled around Louis every night, holding onto him like he was afraid Louis might try to leave—like that wasn’t the most ridiculous most absurd thing in the world. 

Liam, who he loves so much it makes his chest hurt sometimes.

And Liam is letting him do this, which Louis had kind of thought would never happen—until the first time they made it past nervous good-night kisses and fooling around on the sofa, he’d never given much thought to the breadth of things Liam might be willing to try. Looking back, it seems so ridiculous, because Liam will do just about anything to make people he cares about happy and—well. Now Liam’s looking up at him, eyes heavy-lidded and mouth open slightly. Louis takes a deep breath and forces himself to speak. 

“Are you sure?” he says, and Liam nods emphatically. 

“Go on,” Liam says, though his encouraging smile is a bit shaky with nerves still. “It’s not like I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Louis laughs a bit, because Liam is more than familiar with the procedure. He climbs off of Liam, peeling Liam’s trousers down and then slipping out of his own jeans. “Flip over, then.”

Liam meets Louis’s eyes one last time, half shy and half impatient, and rolls onto his stomach. Louis reaches over him, stopping to press a kiss between his shoulder blades, to grab the lube out of the bedside table and drop it into the middle of the bed. After a moment’s hesitation, he grabs a condom as well. They’re not always the most cautious but—better this way. 

Slicking up his fingers, Louis crawls so that he’s sat next to Liam, whose face is pressed into a pillow and whose foot is twitching just a bit—with impatience or anticipation or something else, Louis couldn’t say. He brushes his thumb across Liam’s hole softly, barely pressing at all, and is more pleased than he’s willing to let on when Liam pushed back into it. Louis drags on slick finger across as well now, pushing harder until the tip is just barely inside Liam. 

“Louis,” Liam whines, his hips pressing up toward Louis’s hand again, which Louis takes as a sign that he should slip his finger in more.

He’s going achingly slow, because Liam is so tight it’s a bit too much to deal with, and this is just one finger. When it’s in to the second knuckle and Liam’s starting to relax, Louis draws it out slowly, and pushes back in. Liam makes a low noise in his throat and Louis realizes that he’s barely breathing. Watching Liam is too hypnotic, apparently. He sucks in a breath harshly, swallowing hard as he eases another finger into Liam. 

It’s a horrible cliché to think that Liam’s amazingly tight but, well, Louis is working two fingers in and out slowly and carefully, and it’s all he can think about, the hot press of Liam against his fingers; he has to force himself to not imagine what it’s going to feel like around his cock because he might come just from the idea of it. Liam’s still making soft noises, not desperate but definitely aroused, his hips twitching slightly up in time with Louis’s fingers. When Louis crooks his fingers at the right angle, Liam goes slack all over and gasps. It’s gratifying that Liam is enjoying this—and really, really outrageously hot, the way he’s relaxed and unresisting and keening just a little time Louis moves his fingers, dragging the tips across Liam’s prostate and watching his whole body go tense and slack by turns. 

“Do you want another?” he says. Liam blushes, somehow visible over the flush already on his cheeks from arousal, and nods several times. It’s so hard to read Liam sometimes, when he’s not sure how to ask, not sure how much he’s allowed to reveal of what’s happening inside his head. It’s clear he’s enjoying this but Louis is having trouble gauging exactly how much, what the best things are—Liam has always been so reserved and every so often it carries over to the way he acts in bed. 

Leaning down, Louis presses a kiss to the side of his face, just up from his mouth, and then draws a line of slightly messy kisses back to his ear. He sucks against the soft, warm skin where Liam’s jaw meets his neck until he’s sure there’ll be a mark later, one he can press his thumb against when they’re out and make Liam turn tomato red again. Making Liam blush might be Louis’s favorite thing to do in the entire world, except possibly for what he’s doing right now.

Because apparently what it took to break down Liam’s uncertainty and nervousness was to stop and leave him on edge. Louis had been too distracted to work his fingers rhythmically while he was marking Liam up, and now Liam’s pressing his hips up with more force. 

“Please,” he says, not quite broken but close. Very close. 

“Yeah?” Louis says, dropping a kiss at the top of Liam’s spine. The third finger is harder than the first two—Louis doesn’t laugh at his own pun, and congratulates himself for it—and he works it in so so slowly, letting Liam stretch around him and trying to remember how to breathe when his fingers are being squeezed and pressed and it’s so hot. 

It’s possible there’s no blood left anywhere in Louis’s body but his cock; he can feel it leaking against his stomach but ignores it. He’s legitimately worried that touching himself now will end this too quickly, before he fucks Liam with anything but his fingers. Instead, he finds the angle he had earlier, the one that worked so well, and grazes the tips of all three fingers across Liam’s prostate. 

“Fuck,” Liam says, his voice cracking. Louis thrusts his fingers in sharply—unintentionally but he can’t bring himself to regret because Liam gasps and swears. Louis does it again and get the same reaction. 

Watching Liam writhe against his fingers is incredible; he’s seen Liam fall apart so many times but never like this, never from anticipation and having part of Louis inside him. 

“Are you ever going to fuck me?” Liam says. Louis deserves a fucking prize for not coming on the spot because Liam swearing is obscene, and Liam desperate is obscene, and everything about this is possibly the hottest thing Louis has ever seen, basically. He bites down on Liam’s shoulder instead of answering, enjoys Liam’s hiss at the sting. It’s maybe a bit sadistic, how much he gets off on making Liam beg but—it’s Liam, uncontrolled and unrestrained, and that’s everything Louis has wanted since the first time he made a silly gesture and caused him to burst out laughing in the middle of an interview. 

“Mmm,” Louis says. “I suppose I could.” He thrusts his fingers hard into Liam a few more times before he pulls them out. Liam fucking whines, long and high and so overwhelming that Louis nearly sees stars. 

“Can I be on my back?” Liam says, back to sounding shy again, but with a tinge of desperation in his voice that wasn’t there earlier. “I want to see your face.”

He’s still blushing but he’s also rolling over before Louis says anything—not that Louis could ever possibly say no to the proposition of getting to watch Liam’s face as he gets fucked because, well. Because Liam’s face. It’s a complete reason in and of itself. 

Louis feels his hands shaking as he rolls the condom on; it hasn’t occurred to him until now that maybe he’s just as nervous about this as Liam is but it’s a lot of pressure, being someone’s first time. He wants Liam to love this, as much as he loves it when Liam presses him down into their bed and fucks him slowly, until he’s is begging to come, as much as he loves it when Liam spreads him out and pounds into him until they’re both shaking and gasping and nearly screaming from it. 

“Come _on_ ,” Liam says, which, how is Louis supposed to resist that. He doesn’t even bother trying, just fumbles through slicking his cock up and leans down to kiss Liam again. 

He has to pull away to guide himself in so slowly he thinks he might explode, sinking into Liam carefully and trying to school his face into something that hides his desperation. Liam makes no similar effort, and Louis watches every sensation cross his face—the familiar conflict between pain and mind-numbing pleasure, tipping steadily toward pleasure as Liam’s face goes slack and his eyes fall shut. 

“Oh,” he whispers. “That’s—”

He never finishes the thought, and Louis is too focused on keeping himself still to pay attention anyway. His thighs are shaking and he’s got his eyes squeezed tight shut so he can’t watch Liam’s face anymore. It gets to be too much, though, and Louis chokes out a question. “Can I move?”

Liam nods, and then Louis is moving, still slow and cautious and he’s trying to pour every ounce of love he’s ever felt for Liam into it because that’s when this is best, when it makes you feel covered up in how much someone loves you and— _fuck_. Liam snaps his hips up to meet Louis’s and the edges of his vision go blurry. He makes a choked noise that might be Liam’s name and might just be profanity. 

After that, they’re moving rhythmically—but still slow. Liam’s gasping and moaning with every thrust and Louis is biting on his lip so hard he thinks he’s going to draw blood. More than anything else, they’re rocking together, moving so closely in unison it feels like they’re breathing at the same time. 

Even moving slowly, it’s been so long since Louis’s felt like this—swallowed up by someone else’s tight heat, someone else clenching around him—and Liam’s face is like being hit around the head with love; it feels like no time has passed at all before he’s so close he can barely breathe at all. Somehow, he manages the coordination to slip a hand between them and wrap his hand around Liam’s cock, which is good because Liam’s hands are fisted in the duvet, his knuckles white. 

“Ohhh,” Liam says, drawn out and hoarse, when Louis starts jerking him uncoordinated but mostly in time with their hips. 

“Tell me when?” Louis says, gritting his teeth and biting on the inside of his cheek, hoping the pain will distract him. 

It’s enough for him to last through a few more thrusts, until Liam is choking out a “now,” and clenching hard around Louis. There’s nothing that could have stopped him coming, now with Liam taught around him, underneath him, his face totally blissed out and his come coating Louis’s hand.

Louis collapses forward awkwardly as he comes back to himself, still shaking a bit against Liam and burying his face in Liam’s shoulder. The effort of dragging himself over so he’s no longer inside Liam, of disposing of the condom, is impossible but he manages it. As soon as he’s flopped on his back, unwilling to move again, Liam drapes himself over Louis’s chest, tucking his head under Louis’s chin. 

“That was nice,” he says. Louis can’t see his face from this angle, but he can tell from the tone that Liam is probably blushing again. 

Pressing a kiss into Liam’s hand, Louis says, “Yeah?”

“I’d like to do it again sometime.” Liam’s voice is small. 

“Me too.” Silence falls after, and Liam’s breathing starts to even out. Louis wraps an arm around his waist and holds him closer. “I love you,” he adds. 

“Love you too,” Liam mumbles, barely audible against Louis’s chest. 

“You’re probably going to be a bit sore tomorrow.” Liam’s shoulder twitches weakly against Louis, a sleepy approximation of a shrug. 

“Worth it,” he says. Louis kisses his head again to disguise his giddiness at the thought of it all—doing this again, getting Liam to talk about what he wants more, his blushing smile when he does. 

Liam mumbles something else into Louis’s skin, but Louis is too tired to ask him to repeat it, and thus definitely too tired to do anything like getting up to clean them off. In the morning, he’ll get up and bring Liam a cup of oversweetened tea in bed, and they’ll curl around each other for longer than they really have time for. But right now, Louis’s eyes are falling shut and even if they weren’t, he wouldn’t dislodge Liam sleeping on top of him for the world. 

Running his fingers up and down Liam’s spine is the last thing Louis remembers before he falls asleep.


End file.
